Although I desperately try to organize my thoughts about it and create an awesome and totally deep blog post about the harrowing experience, I just couldn’t get to finish what I was writing even after 6 weeks.

Valentine’s Day is over and everyone is probably doing the following: a) basking in the afterglow of V-Day sex, b) pooping out V-Day dinner, c) checking out of hotels/on a return flight to home, d) hugging themselves “It’s ok, Valentine’s Day is not even a real holiday…”

It’s that time of year again, it’s 26 Degrees out in Manila, and everyone is reveling in the fact that they can walk at 11:00AM on the sidewalks of Ayala Avenue without reaching their destination drenched in sweat.
Although a lot of people are content with this chilly weather, some (ie me and my friends) would like to take it further. Since we had no plans for a Saturday, (the only day we were all available) and the 13 degrees in Baguio is borderline unachievable in a day’s trip, we decided the obvious for everyone from the Capital: “Let’s go to Tagaytay.

You know the feeling. When you wake up in the morning, you feel unusually lighter, and when you lift your shirt up, you think you have lost quite a bit of fat mass in your midsection. Thats right. You have skinny feels.